


we paint love with blood

by preciousghouls



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: AU, Arranged Marriage, Exhibitionism, Light BDSM, Love/Hate, M/M, One Night Stands, Wedding Sex, Yakuza, and of course they meet again, not as bloody as it sounds, sex kinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 02:00:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11071692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/preciousghouls/pseuds/preciousghouls
Summary: There’s just something about yakuza and love. Without a bit of fists and blood, it doesn’t seem to work. Kuroo and Tsukishima aren’t much different.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> a commission for my friend, who wanted some yakuza kurotsuki and hardcore sex, which didn't come off as hardcore as i thought?? oops sorry j  
> since this is a commission, beware of content you might not prefer unless you're j!

Kuroo stares down at the blindfolded man, tied to an old chair stained with blood of countless unfortunate victims. So still, so pliant. He knows the eyes hidden behind the dirty piece of cloth, knows the taste of the mouth sealed by duct tape.  
  
He takes a deep whiff of smoke, before proceeding to put out his cigarette -- he’s raised to have manners, mind you.   
  
The closest thing to him is the leader of the operation, so he presses the lit bud to the man's arm, pleased when he doesn’t so much as flinch. That’s how the Panther group is trained.   
  
“You sure you didn’t get the wrong guy?”   
  
“Positive, Waka. I even got his ID.” Smoothly the man reaches into his chest pocket and fishes out a card, placing it onto Kuroo’s open palm.   
  
On it was a photo of the very same man Kuroo currently has at his mercy. Next to it, his name. True enough, there is Tsukishima in it, proving his connection to the Crow group.   
  
“So that’s where ‘Tsukki’ came from.”   
  
Kuroo smirks when Tsukishima Kei gives a visible flinch, the first movement he’s made since he was brought into the shed.   
  
The images from the night they spent together just a few days ago are still fresh in his mind. Tsukishima, naked and ever so responsive to Kuroo’s every touch. Sweetly gasping out his last name, ever begging for more, for all Kuroo has to offer.   
  
Oh, he is going to make sure he gets utmost _fun_ out of this.

  
-

  
  
Tsukishima wonders how long he’s been in the darkness.

More than fear, he’s exhausted. And annoyed, mostly because they took his glasses and he hates it when it gets dirty. His arms are long but his abductor was careless in binding him and now his muscles are tense and aching. It’s also been hot since the long drive in the minivan, so they’re likely in a shed in the middle of nowhere. Worst of all it _stinks_ , and he hates it when it stinks.

For a while he considered wiping them out and leaving the shithole, but curiosity beckoned him to stay. Who is the one after him, and why? The desire to know the answer keeps him silent, though he’s sure he’s mistaken as a pliant victim. He remains silent even though it’s hot, it stinks, and his stomach so empty from missing lunch.

He can tell, clearly, when the one in-charge comes. It’s so obvious with the way chairs clatter, rough voices turned respectful, murmuring _Waka_ with every sentence.

Without understanding how, Tsukishima knows. The way his captor’s voice sends chills down his spine, the lingering warmth of his touch as his hand forcefully tilts his chin for a better look.

The way he sounded like he was stifling laughter as he said _Tsukki_.

Tsukishima feels the weight on his legs disappear. A strong grip comes to hold onto the rough rope around his chest. They’re going to take him somewhere, likely the main house of the Waka. Well, that’d make his job much easier. He lets the person get somewhat rough with the way he’s getting dragged around, but makes sure to keep count of the number of times he nearly trips from the shoves.

It doesn’t take long before he finds himself shoved into a vehicle -- it’s on a completely different scale than the minivan. This vehicle smells like worn leather and wine and cigarettes. _Smells like home._ Once the mastermind settles down with a thump to Tsukishima’s right, the engine starts up, and they’re driving off.

A hand casually drapes over his shoulder, and Tsukishima can’t help tensing. “Why so quiet, Tsukki?”

 _Maybe because there’s tape around my mouth,_ he thinks sarcastically before he feels wetness against the tape. It peels off just enough for dry lips to meet his chapped ones, and he doesn’t think twice about parting his lips to take the kiss. He tastes like the man he took to bed five days ago. Kisses like the same man. Biting, tongue wrestling, pushing, moaning, teasing. Without intending to, Tsukishima’s kissing back.

Then the engine stops. “We’ve reached, Waka.”

The lips leave him immediately and the tape pasted back in place. _Fuck_. He was distracting him, and Tsukishima let himself get distracted. None too gently he’s tugged out of the vehicle and what can only be a gun presses against his back.

“Just keep walking or I’ll shoot your brains out.”

Tsukishima can feel the malice dripping from the atmosphere; how many people have come out to greet the Waka? Do they all know who he is? He walks as he tries to put pieces together, but it’s hard when he can’t see and he keeps hitting into bumps or tripping over pebbles.

He makes three rights, a left, two more rights, up three sets of stairs, and another right followed by three lefts before the gun is put away.

“Leave us.”

“But, Waka --”

“I can handle him.”

His captor sounds full of confidence, but Tsukishima wonders about that. He wonders even as the blindfold is removed and he’s invited into what could only be the Waka’s room.

 

-

 

“Well, come on in.”

When Tsukishima shows no sign of budging, Kuroo gives a hand by nudging the bound man forward into his room.

 _His_ room, because being forced to sleep in the largest room of the mansion is part of the Successor Package in the Panther group. He much prefers his old bedroom than this which only has a king sized bed, work desk and windows, but that’s a tale for another time.

He reaches into one of his many pockets and picks one of his sharper cutters. Tsukishima doesn’t bat a lash even as Kuroo slides the polished blades out and approaches him, just continues to stare at him with the same eyes as the night they spent behind their identities.

Not once breaking eye contact, Kuroo slashes at the thick ropes with his cutter. First layer. Second. Third, until the rope falls and Kuroo can see the red marks against Tsukishima’s pale skin. He presses down on his captive’s shoulders so he’s seated at the edge of his bed.

Slender fingers reach for the edge of the tape and peel it off slowly, allowing Kuroo time to admire the man’s features. The last time they met they had been cloaked in the dark, but now in his brightly lit room Kuroo can see him well.

Those eyes finally settle on his, but the lust he once saw is now replaced by a well masked hollowness.

Kuroo’s always enjoyed breaking this kind of people.

“So it _was_ you.” There is no sign of fear in his voice. Not like the one from that night either; this is simply monotone.

Kuroo can’t resist the grin that creeps onto his face. “So it is. To think someone from the Tsukishima family would sink so low as to spread his legs for a random man he meets in the back alley.”

“We both didn’t know each other’s identity till tonight,” Tsukishima replies calmly, completely ignoring Kuroo’s remarks about him. Kuroo wonders what it’d take to bring back that man from that night?

He takes a sit next to Tsukishima, ensuring that their bodies touch. His skin burns, but that doesn’t matter.

“That’s wrong. _I_ know who you are, Tsukki. But are you sure _you_ know me?”

“...Kuroo, right?”

And being not as good an actor, Kuroo can’t mask his surprise, even though he tries he can’t help the rapid blinks. Sometimes he wonders if it’s just as his men say: Our boss just ain’t woke without his smoke!

“What gave me away?”

Tsukishima leans back, but even then his legs are long enough that they remain bent on the ground. Kuroo intentionally presses his against them, testing the waters.

“Nothing much, really. There’s not many groups in the region that still uses _Waka_. Among them, few who have connections with the Crow group. Only one that dares to do something like this… And that’s the Kuroo family of the Panther group.”

He says it so smoothly, without a blink of an eye, that Kuroo unconsciously _wow_ -ed through the entire thing. This guy is all brains, perhaps the brain of the Tsukishima family itself. He opens his mouth to say _something_ , but then he’s cut off by his own captive.

“So, what do you want so badly that you’re willing to turn to kidnapping the future head of the Crow group?”

 

-

 

Tsukishima can see the moment Kuroo’s entire demeanor changes. The man’s reflexes were so fast he has not enough time to react, and Tsukishima finds himself with his back against the mattress, arms pinned to his sides.

“Future head of the Crow group? _You’re_ Tsukishima Kei?”

At the mention of his full name, Tsukishima’s eyes darkens. Anyone who knows his name can’t mean anything good. “I am. And you must be…”

“Tetsurou. Kuroo Tetsurou, your fiancé. Not that I have any intentions of marrying you.”

 

-

 

His fianceé. Of the dozen of Tsukishima family, Kuroo’s men just had to pick his _fianceé_. Christ. Why fucking not. And of course they would’ve fucked before already. Why wouldn’t they?

“Fucking unbelievable,” Kuroo mutters and releases his grip on Tsukishima. “Of all the people!” In the first place, their policy of not meeting until marriage day is _ridiculous._

“Well, I wouldn’t think that my fiancé would kidnap me either, but that doesn’t tell me _why_.”

“Don’t call me that! I just told you, I have no intention of marrying you, or anyone else from the Crow group for that matter.”

Tsukishima gives him a disapproving frown. Kuroo’s sure that if he returned his glasses, they’d be pushed up then like he was some big shot. Which he is, actually. Still.

“Neither of us are in the position to decline. Our grandfathers sealed the oath with sake and blood, so we must do our part as their successor to uphold their honor.”

Kuroo’s glare is so fierce it hurts even his own eyes, but there is no one to blame but Tsukishima himself for stepping on a landmine. He must be fairy good at that.

“ _Honor_ ? You dare speak of honor after the way my father was treated by your group? By _your_ father?”

Tsukishima gives him a frown again, and for the first time since meeting Kuroo finds the guy so damn annoying.

“What’s your point? Our fathers are perfectly content with each other. I see them almost everyday, and they’re so lovey dovey I’m sick of it.”

Kuroo growls before he can help it. “Content? Have you even _seen_ my old man? Every time he comes home he’s covered in bruises, even in visible areas. When we ask he’d just turn away with his stupid smile and say nothing. Even if we go up to you damn Crows we get nothing. Nothing at all. How can I sit back when my old man is suffering just because of some stupid ceasefire?”

He has to take a breather after saying so much, but his eyes never leave Tsukishima, gauging for any reaction that’d give him an advantage.

The Crow just stares at him for a long while, eyes wide and blank, unreadable. They’re large and the gold in them is even golder under the light, and for a man Tsukishima has long eyelashes, feminine enough to be a concubine and not the next boss of a renowned yakuza group.

 _Don’t get distracted._ Kuroo knows first hand how looks can play a big role in this line of work.

Then Tsukishima makes a muffled sound, and Kuroo frowns as he tries to listen harder for something, anything.

Laughter. The fucker is laughing.

This is it.

With ferocity Kuroo doesn’t know, he punches Tsukishima across the face and shoves him face first into the sheets. He doesn’t waste a second, twisting his wrists behind his back and tying them with the loose rope he’d cut not long ago.

Tsukishima’s loose pants give easily with a harsh tug from Kuroo, and he’s met with pink flesh. “Nothing beneath again today? How uncough.”

“Maybe I anticipated that you’d want to get into my pants today.”

“Bad move, _Tsukki_.”

Dick already hard in hand, Kuroo easily pushes into Tsukishima’s loose hole raw. _Christ, how many men has this guy fucked before he was brought here?_ But none of that matters when he feels welcoming heat wrap around him, when he feels _powerful_ as the man beneath him buckles forward, a futile attempt to get away.

Kuroo’s hands are a harsh grip around Tsukishima’s hips, nails digging into his smooth flesh as he slides out and slams back in repeatedly at a brutal pace. That night, he’s thought the wing like tattoo on the back of his hip were beautiful, but now that he knows what it actually symbolises… Screw it, it’s still beautiful.

There’s something about seeing his neck bare, inviting. Kuroo’s never had the urge, but now he leans forward to sink his teeth into Tsukishima so hard he tastes copper on his tongue, the way he likes it.

There’s satisfaction when he feels Tsukishima tighten around him, when he sees that emotionless face flushed and hears him pant. Through his shirt Kuroo roams till he finds two familiar rock hard nipples. He presses down on them harshly, watches as Tsukishima’s mouth fall open soundlessly as he reaches his climax. White stains the black mattress, causing Kuroo to sigh.

“Ah ah, now you’ve dirtied my sheets. That won’t do.” He flips Tsukishima onto his back, and pulls him by his legs so his backside is seated onto Kuroo’s knees. With every thrust, Tsukishima is also cleaning up his own mess with his shirt as though he is a rug. It’s fucked up how Tsukishima seems to be enjoying it.

But Kuroo must be fucked up too, for he finds enjoyment in looking at Tsukishima’s change in facial expressions. When he goes fast, Tsukishima’s pants follow his rhythm in ragged breaths. If he slows his pace but angles himself correctly, Tsukishima trembles in understandable pleasure.

But he gets the best reactions if he just goes wild, grab him by his buttcheeks and ravish him on all ends -- slamming into his prostate, flicking his leaking cock, biting on the begging swollen red nipples, leaving his marks all over the man’s body.

Tsukishima’s back will arch for more, his mouth never closes because the moans never stop.

Kuroo releases just like that, pouring everything into Tsukishima like he’s done before, only with next to no care for the man who he might call his fianceé in another life. He ensures he’s released everything before pulling out and rolling Tsukishima back onto his front so it won’t leak.

Tsukishima is a filthy mess with his sweat damp hair, cum stained shirt, bleeding teeth and nail marks left by Kuroo, a gaping hole that still seems to be asking for more. Kuroo rains down a palm against it, and the sound resounds in the otherwise silent room.

“That’s what happens when you be an asshole, get it?”

He doesn’t understand how Tsukishima can still muster a cough that is still categorised as laughter.

“Well, at least I served my purpose and took your dump, didn’t I?” He crawls up onto his knees and raises himself to meet Kuroo’s eyes. “Go ahead and fuck me as much as you need to tonight, _fiancé._ Tomorrow, I’ll prove to you how wrong you are about our parents’ relationship.”

 

-

 

When Tsukishima opens his eyes at the promised wee hours, Kuroo is gone. The sound of water tells him Kuroo’s gone _to the shower_ , and he feels this ridiculous sense of relief in his chest. The last time they fucked, Kuroo had been gone by morning.

Tsukishima tries to move but his hips say otherwise, so he just lies in the same position, waiting for Kuroo as he counts the marks left on his skin.

Kuroo comes out only with a towel around his waist, allowing Tsukishima to admire his own claws along Kuroo’s chest in the after rounds. The Panther frowns when he spots him staring.

“What are you looking at?”

“Just admiring your body.” As much as he can without his glasses, anyway.

A towel is tossed in his face. “If you have the time, get your ass up and show me your _proof_.”

Speaking of which, Tsukishima can’t believe how dense Kuroo is. Perhaps it’s passed down in the family; the current head isn’t good with this kind of thing either. Which is the cause of this whole misunderstanding in the first place. ...Not that Tsukishima’s complaining or anything.

So he gets dressed and his glasses back, takes the wheel of Kuroo’s car once they reach the main streets, and drives them to his house with an aching ass. He feels so filthy, still in his clothes from yesterday, stained with blood and cum, and he _loves_ it so damned much.

Tsukishima takes a peek using the car mirror, but Kuroo’s face is turned to the outside, as though there’s something interesting to see among the typical busy city life. Clearly, he’s still being hated. _Oh well._ He’s sure all will change once Kuroo see their parents together.

 

-

 

“Kei-sama! Where on earth have you been to?!”

A horde of people surrounds Tsukishima once he alights the car, and Kuroo finds himself stuck inside it without a way to get out. So he watches them fuss over their _Waka_ and how annoyed Tsukishima looks, and gets annoyed at himself for seeing that he’s in fact happy.

He doesn’t spare more than a second wondering why no one is voicing out about Tsukishima’s appearance, because they are, after all, yakuza.

“Alright, alright. I brought an important guest, so let’s not get uselessly over excited.” Writhing through the crowd, Tsukishima’s hand come to rest on the car knob and the door is, at last, open. A blast of hot air makes Kuroo groan and Tsukishima smirk, but he gets out, because he’s here for his father.

What Kuroo can say about dozen of grown yakuza men gasping at his presence is… at the very least, not very pleasant. They’re followed by whispers that are loud enough to be conversational:

_It’s him._

_From the Panther group!_

_Huh?_ That’s _Kei-sama’s fiancé?_

He rolls his eyes. This is why he’s never liked visiting other groups since he was old enough to join his father in them.

_His father._

Kuroo takes Tsukishima by the arm, which elicits shouts and threats from small fries that don’t work on a yakuza such as himself, and pulls Tsukishima’s face close to his own, hissing into sensitive ears,

“Hey, so how is your proof here? It’s just your own house, isn’t it?”

This time Tsukishima rolls _his_ eyes, pulling his arm free effortlessly despite Kuroo’s strong grip. “Follow me.”

So Kuroo does. With the two of them walking side by side, everyone they come across stare wide-eyed before remembering Tsukishima is their boss and bows in respect.

 _This house is needlessly huge as fuck_ , Kuroo thinks as they pass by door after door, turn corners after corners. Just when he’s about to ask when exactly are they going to reach, they come to a stop in front of a room.

Tsukishima steps aside, and with a tilt of his chin beckons Kuroo to peek through the tiny opening left. He steps forward, skeptical.

“What? Are you gonna tell me they’re being so lovey dovey inside so my old man is happy here?” All he receives is a shrug, so Kuroo is left with no choice but to look.

He hears than rather sees first what’s happening inside. It’s a gasp of a voice he knows all too well, but he doesn’t recognise this gasp. Not in a million years. It’s so soft, so docile, nothing like the man his father is. Then his eyes catch up to the happenings.

Two men. Naked, on the king sized bed. They’re having sex. No, not just sex, because that wouldn’t be anything surprising at all. It’s the fact that he recognises his father as the one with a ring gag in his mouth and rope binding his body, that he sees the golden rings piercing his nipples and the vibrating object in his ass. He sees every scar and mark, old and fresh, but he also sees how his father’s cock is so hard that he will come without touch.

It’s the lust filled eyes he sees, the way he leans into every touch by who can only be Tsukishima’s father, who holds a whip in his hands. Kuroo swallows, and slowly turns to a grinning Tsukishima.

 

-

Tsukishima waits, but he didn’t have to, not for long.

“What… the fuck is this?”

“They’re making love, obviously.”

“ _You know that’s not my question_.”

Tsukishima sighs. “Your father is actually a masochist.”

“ _What_?”

“You heard me. He likes being forced to submit like a dog, and he especially likes being ordered around by my father. Your father is the one who asked for the bruises and scars, and ended up being too ashamed to admit it to his own son.”

Kuroo stones, likely trying to absorb this bomb like fact that’s been dropped onto him. Tsukishima likes how he’s unable to say anything back, because he just witnessed the truth. He hums a familiar tune in wait, before he spots something that makes him smirk.

He drops onto his knees without thought, shocking Kuroo. “Wh-”

Tsukishima skillfully unzips Kuroo’s pants, freeing the hard cock. He raises a brow. “Well, who’s the uncough one now?”

After staring at it for a while, “Doesn’t what our fathers do remind you of what we did? You know… I’m actually a masochist as well.”

Kuroo actually _blushes_. “Shut up, and get away from my cock.”

“But it’s the wife’s duty to satisfy their husband, right?”

“You’re _not_ my w-” his protest turns into a dragged out moan when Tsukishima easily takes the full length into his mouth thanks to all the years of practice. He purposefully sucks loudly, using his tongue to wrap around areas his lips miss, adding some graze of his teeth when he sees the opportunity.

Hands come to sink into his hair and tug. Experimentally at first, as though there’s some part of Kuroo that still doesn’t _dare_. Tsukishima gives his encouragement by cupping his balls. Hands curl into fists and Tsukishima relishes in the sensation. The place where Kuroo punched him yesterday burns, just the way he likes it. He feels himself harden, and brings his own hand into his pants to stroke himself.

Kuroo pulls his face upwards so forcefully one side of his glasses fall. Kuroo looks down at him with a fierce look. “Don’t touch yourself. I know you can get off just by swallowing my cum, can’t you?”

 _Fuck yes, I can_. Tsukishima’s hand leave his cock, and he wraps it around Kuroo’s thigh instead to support himself as his mouth gets fucked. Kuroo does it just as he’s fucking Tsukishima’s ass, but thankfully this hole is wider. The occasional unconscious strokes to his cheeks has Tsukishima purring and suck harder.

“I’m going to cum,” Kuroo announces, as if that will change anything they’re doing.

It doesn’t.

Tsukishima continues letting Kuroo ravage his mouth until he feels a throbbing he’s felt countless times in his life. It’s not possible but he opens his jaw wider to accept Kuroo’s load, and Kuroo delivers again with an enormous amount despite going through six rounds the previous night. He makes sure to remember how Kuroo lets out the softest of moans as he climaxes, how his hands would soothe into a brush through Tsukishima’s hair.

They’re both left panting.

Someone clears their throat and they both jump into defensive stances, Kuroo still with his cock sticking out and Tsukishima with mouth full of cum.

_Their fathers._

Kuroo’s father has a flushed face, Tsukishima’s father just one of amusement.

“You two young men, we need to have a word with you about having sex before your wedding day.”

_Oooops._

 

Happy ending (?)


	2. we are in love and out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their wedding day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hurray, it's an extra chapter! A special bonus for my first commission. Enjoy!

Tetsurou can’t believe he’s going through with this. He can’t believe it even as he puts on his best (new) suit, nor as he gets into the passenger seat of a poorly decorated car by his men. Not even as he reaches his destination, alights, and is well received by both families with cheers and whistles.

Kuroo Tetsurou is getting married, and he can’t believe it.

-

  


Kei hums a favourite tune as he lets himself get dressed up. His kimono is pure white, the way traditions go for the wife. He tries not to think about Tetsurou in a pure black suit, or he’d be saying his vows with an erection.

They brush back his hair and apply subtle lip gloss. Again, part of the tradition. He tests the look in the mirror, and gives the okay. Contacts have never been his favourite, but thinking of what is to come… well, let’s just say he loves his current pair too much for that.

A pair of wings symbolizing his lineage is pinned to his hair, and he’s all set to have a good time with his soon to be husband.

Ah, there’s the bell. Kei grins.

-

Tetsurou is somewhat nervous. It’s obvious from the way his fingers can’t stop fidgeting for a smoke he didn’t bring, from the way his head whips in the direction of the lightest sounds.

He’s standing at the end of the needlessly long room, waiting for his wife.

He nearly cringes at his own choice of words. Christ, he’s really going to marry Tsukishima Kei.

But what does that matter when the door on the other side finally creaks open, and the bells ring louder than before, and two silhouettes appear with the rowdy cheers of yakuza men.

It doesn’t feel real even as Kei approaches, as their eyes meet, as his father puts their hands together, and leaves to join his own lover on the stand sprawled with messy scribbles of those before them.

Everything only registers when Kei turns to him in the midst of their vows and whispers smugly,

“Told you I’d be your wife.”

The groan comes naturally. “For my sake, please shut up.”

-

Yes, I will fight alongside him.

Yes, I will let him know the day I decide there is the need to conceive a child.

 _Yes, yes, yes._ Kei has said so many yeses, they begin to sound the same. On the other hand, Tetsurou is answering most of them after pauses, with a frown on his face. 

Their fathers ignore it, thankfully. 

“Kei, are you willing to -”  


“ _Yes,_ I am willing to marry him and become his wife and the other 87 things you’ve left to say goddamn fuck!”

His father laughs knowingly, a gruff sound. “Oh, Kei. You’ve always been so impatient.”

“Not my fault my husband here looks so good in a suit I can’t wait to fuck him, right?”  


  


-

  


Tetsurou blinks. He doesn’t understand the conversation that’s happening in front of all their men. He does manage to catch a few keywords, however. 

Vows. 

Tradition.

Sex.

Here.

Translation: It seems that, as part of the tradition, Tetsurou and Kei need to have sex right here in the hall and have to reach climax before the ceremony is considered complete and they are pronounced husband and wife in the underworld.

Or, in other words,

“What the fuck? No one told me about this?!” He turns to glare at Kei, who he refuses to admit looks gorgeous in his snow white kimono, and that Kuroo is, in fact, all for fucking him right here this moment.

Kei looks back at him like he’s read Tetsurou’s thoughts. His father intervenes with a clear of his throat. “That’d be my fault, really, Tetsu. It’s the previous head’s duty to pass down the traditions.”

“ _Old man!_ ” But because he’s always had a soft spot for his father, Tetsurou drops it.  


He swears to fuck Kei’s brains out later, which is soon.

  


-

  


Before they can actually get to the sex part, however, they need to tell their forefathers that, yes, they’re going to do it. Sitting across each other an old table, they pour each other sake. Kei does it first, because Tetsurou is clueless. 

He does it flawlessly, because he has been trained for this moment since the day he could say _Crow_. Using his long nails, Kei cuts his right thumb and lets three drops of blood fall into the cup, dying it a light shade of pink.

With slender fingers, he picks the cup up and sets it on the marked spot before Tetsurou. He glances at his husband. _Your turn_ , he says with his eyes.

With a subtle frown that isn’t subtle enough to escape Kei, Tetsurou does the same, just more awkwardly. He pours the sake gracefully. At least, more graceful than Kei thought he is capable of. But he is careless with cutting himself, and his nails dig a little too deep, causing a waterfall of blood to flow into his cup. 

Kei can’t help chuckling at the way Tetsurou’s face turns beet red as he is quickly exchanged with a new cup. The hall is otherwise silent; who dares laugh at the mistake their boss made? His mistake is the group’s mistake. It’s no laughing matter. But because Kei is his own boss, he laughs a little too loudly that Tetsurou slams the cup before him with a sulky look.

“Okay, okay. The Panther and Crow may now exchange sake.”  


Eyes on each other, they pick up their cups and swallow each other’s blood mixed with sake in one gulp. The official deed is done.

“I now pronounce the two of you husband and wife.”  


Cheers erupt as Tetsurou stands first, offering his hand to Kei. Raising an amused brow, Kei takes it and with a sudden pull he’s locked in a heated kiss. Only taking a split second to recover he places one knee on the table, knocking the cups over, but who cares when you’ve got a man to kiss? 

It’s meant to be a romantic moment, when the groom kisses his bride, but what is there to be romantic about when they’re all men with tattoos and scars except for the hyena-like laughter and rough hands and short, spiky hair the taste of cigarettes poorly covered by cheap mints on his tongue?

They kiss, they touch for the first time since the time they were caught in the act, and it’s never enough, but eventually Tetsurou pulls away and there’s a smirk on his face as he strokes Kei’s cheek in an uncharacteristically gentle way, “I’m not just gonna sit back and let you do your things, you know?”  


“Just what I hoped for.”  


  


-

Tetsurou doesn’t waste any time. He keeps kissing Kei, because damn is he a good kisser. 

It’s hard to keep his tongue in his mouth with a table between them, but with a kick it falls like a house of cards and there’s nothing stopping him from meshing their bodies together.

There’s a whistle coming from somewhere, but Tetsurou ignores it. There’s only one thing he needs to focus on now, and that’s the guy moaning under his touch. 

Taking advantage of his wider build, Tetsurou pushes Kei in the direction he wants and they bump against the stand they stood before and exchanged their vows, a somewhat safe distance away from their men.

He reaches for the kimono and pauses, taking a final good look at it. Kei gives a chuckle, and it brings Tetsurou a completely different feeling from when they exchanged sake.

“What, do you have a thing for kimonos?”

“No, I just think you look gorgeous in it.”

Kei blushes at his words and Tetsurou at his own. Fuck, that has got to be the most cringe worthy thing he’s said. But perhaps that isn’t so bad considering he gets Kei silent, and grinning his embarrassment away he slips off the kimono.

The surprises just don’t stop. First he notices something shining in the corner of his eyes and he thought it was a mistake, but when he looks closer he finds golden rings around each of Kei’s nipples. It’s Tetsurou’s first time seeing him without his shirt off, but he’s sure Kei didn’t have them the last time they fucked.

“…I got them last week,” Kei admits in a hoarse voice. “I heard from your dad that you like this kind of thing.”

Hell yeah it’s Tetsurou’s thing, all right. His grin widens as his hand reaches lower to grab Kei’s hanging balls. “…And this?”

“Tradition,” Kei gasps. “I’m not supposed to wear anything beneath so my husband – you – will be able to take me at anytime. I just started early.”

In other words, it means that Kei has been fucking other guys before him like this as well. That shouldn’t have made Tetsurou as upset as he feels, but he is and there’s no helping that, so instead he uses the kimono to bind Kei’s arms.

With a light push Kei obediently falls back on the stand with only his legs dangling in the air. Tetsurou holds them by his thighs and spread them high and wide, aware of the nearing of their men, watching every move closely. If they want to see, he’ll show them.

A plug sits in Kei’s hole, which clenches around it nicely. A few men groan at the sight and Tetsurou does too, because the plug is large and Kei is wet and he will be ready to take his cock easily like this. Kei manages to roll himself onto his front and wriggles his raised ass invitingly.

“Like my wedding gift, darlin’?”

Tetsurou slaps down on a cheek harshly, eliciting a moan. “A little too much for your own good, dear.”

He grabs the round base and pulls the plug out in one swift notion, leaving Kei’s pucker gaping at the sudden loss. 

But Tetsurou doesn’t fill him instantly. Instead he stands to the side and faces the group, most of the veterans already with their cocks out and fapping to their bosses having sex, leaving the green horns with reddened ears and hands over their erections. 

“Look closely, everyone. This is the slut hole of your future boss, Tsukishima Kei. He’s a masochist who gets off on asserted dominance, and spent almost half his life looking for men to satisfy his cravings.”

Tetsurou doesn’t know where the words are coming from, but they come naturally, easily, and he doesn’t stop. He plunges two fingers into Kei, and his moans thickens the arousing atmosphere in the room.

“But see this? All this is mine to own now. The only cock that will satisfy him from now on is mine. Today is the day I will fuck him so good the only thing he’ll remember tomorrow is the feeling of my cock in his ass. This is what it means to be my wife.”

More cheers, but now mixed with pants. Kei himself is restless, pushing back against Tetsurou’s fingers. Kei smirks as he pulls them out just as suddenly as he grabs Kei to a standing position, presenting his naked body for all to see.

His hand holds Kei’s chin high. “Look at them. They’re watching you.”

-

Kei thinks he’s about to come. A few dozen men have their dripping cocks pointed in his direction, furiously stroking them. He knows how he looks in their eyes with his arms bound and rock hard pierced nipples and a throbbing cock.

“Kei-sama’s dick is so hard…”

“Holy fuck, his skin is so pale.”

“Shit, are those nipple piercings?”

He doesn’t expect it when hands circle his thighs and he’s lifted into the air.

“Tetsu…” Kei doesn’t get to ask his question before he’s sinking down on Tetsurou in the foreign position. It reaches him in areas hardly explored, and his mouth falls open in silent gasps.

“Like this, Kei?” 

It’s one thing to hear Tetsurou’s voice over the phone, but another to have the words whispered directly into his ears.

“Fuck, yes! Rougher, Tetsu, I need. More…”

“Yeah?” 

Kei doesn’t know how he does it but Tetsurou raises him higher with his next thrust and Kei’s bouncing up and down on his husband’s cock and it’s so damned amazing he’s ready to shoot his load. 

-

The idea strikes Tetsurou on his deepest thrust yet. He drops Kei onto the ground with his face flat against the cold floor before tearing at his own outfit. The time to look good it over, and he wants to enjoy his wedding fuck.

“It’s okay to go closer, you know,” he announces when he finally gets the blazer off. “As long as I’m the one doing the assfucking here, I’m pretty sure there’s no rules saying you can’t touch on wedding day.”

He turns to his father for confirmation, who nods before he’s dragged away by the older Tsukishima. Likely for a session of their own.

With his own words the men may have been skeptical, but the permission is given by the heads, and curious, eager hands come to touch.

Tetsurou feels hands roam his bare chest, and occasionally kisses are left along his backbone. A few daring hands cup a feel of his ass and rub, and Tetsurou finds himself enjoying the sensation. 

When he looks down it’s a complete different sight. Kei already has a cock between his shiny lips, and there are men playing with his piercings and stroking him and taking turns to admire his cock.

Tetsurou somehow begins to understand the purpose behind this tradition as he nears his climax. He orders the men to stay away during this moment that can only be shared between husband and wife. He unties the cloth binding Kei’s hands and links his to them as he increases his pace.

“Kei, I’m coming…”

Kei, who is covered in marks and drying cum by then, gives a moan sounding reply.

“Inside,” Tetsurou manages to catch. “You need to do it inside me.”

“Just like good times.”

Without another word they reach their climax, and Tetsurou can feel Kei squeezing him dry with new found greed.

“He needs to hold it in till midnight.” Tetsurou doesn’t know when their fathers returns but he recognises the expression that of aftersex and simply nods. He looks around for the discarded plug, slides himself out and settles the plug back in.

Kei lets his ass drop and Tetsurou looks around the room. Everyone looks like Kei, sprawled on the ground with their cocks hanging out, and white staining every corner.

Absolutely filthy, and he absolutely loves it.

**Author's Note:**

> hope y'all liked it!  
> kurotsuki ends up being a perfect match for each other. yahoo!
> 
> you can read here if you're interested in commissioning me: http://preciousghouls.tumblr.com/commissions


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